


Scorpius Malfoy

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-25
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2019-01-19 16:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12413736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: The story of the teen with a lightning shaped scar and the dark lord Voldemort has come to a close, but the tale of young Scorpius Malfoy and his friends has just begun. Follow Scorpius as he learns and grows and travels the path that unfolds before him.





	1. The King's Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

  
Author's notes: 1  


* * *

            Prologue: The King’s Guest

            Five dark robed figures struggled up the road towards the castle on the cliff side. It was a dark and stormy night, and the wind tore mercilessly at their robes as they were lashed by the rain.

            The figure in the middle stopped briefly and pulled the hood of his robe down farther in a futile attempt to shield his face. His escort, the four men that surrounded him, waited patiently and then started on again when he was ready.

            As they continued to struggle towards the castle, the man being escorted looked out at the mighty, tumultuous, ocean. The ocean’s massive breakers smashed into the cliff they walked upon as if they wished to break the cliff side and pull the men down into the depths of the sea.

            The five men struggled on, bone weary. The friendly light that could be seen emanating from the castle’s high windows egged them on and they doubled their pace.

            After another quarter hour of battling against the strong wind, the five men stood outside the gates to the castle. One strode forwards and banged his large fist on the strong oak doors.

            The doors swung inward almost instantly to reveal another man cloaked and hooded against the weather. He nodded curtly and stepped aside to let them through.

            As the strong doors slammed behind him, the escorted man felt an ominous foreboding, as if he was trapped within them.

            He was led across the grounds and into the castle itself; it was not much warmer inside, but it was dry, and they were protected from the rain and wind, thought the man with relief. One of the men escorting him held out his hand and asked in rough English for the man’s wand. The man knew this standard procedure, which was always performed before seeing a king, so he gracefully handed over his wand.

            He was led through many corridors and then into an eating hall. Unlike the corridors the man had been led through, this hall was warm, and a large fire roared in a stone hearth. A long table ran the length of the room; it was empty, except for at the head of the table, where, in a seat of silk and gold, sat a bearded blond man with a golden circlet about his head. He wore a robe lined with fur and ate from dishes of gold inlaid with jewels; behind his right shoulder a Danish flag flew.

            He looked up as the man entered with his escort, but he didn’t offer to rise, he merely set his fork and knife down.

            The man who had been escorted in threw back his hood onto his shoulders to reveal unruly jet black hair, a scar like a lightning bolt on his forehead, and a pair of piercing green eyes that looked out from behind a pair of simple glasses. It was Harry Potter, savior of the world from the dark lord Voldemort. This was a much older Harry Potter; a middle-aged Harry who was in his low forties, and was diplomat for the English Minister of Magic.

            Harry wondered absently what the king of Denmark was doing in this lone castle by the sea side, with hardly any subjects at hand, and without his wife or family.

            The blond haired man, who was indeed the king of Denmark, waved his hand in a gesture for Harry to sit by his side. Harry bowed briefly before taking his place by the King’s right side as dishes full of food appeared in front of him.

            “What brings you here, Mr. Potter?” Asked the King in perfect English; he spoke grimly as if he already knew the answer.

            Harry replied with an eloquence learned from years of diplomatic experience. “I am sent from the Minister of Magic, Michael Corner, to his majesty the king of Denmark on behalf of the people of England. The Minister implores you to believe that it was no Englishman that caused the disappearance of your son, the crown prince of Denmark, and asks you to not rise in arms against us.”

            The king looked grim. “Tell me who it could have been then? My son enjoys sailing, so he went out with his friends on a boating trip, and of course he had many royal guards along. He sailed far and was just off the coast of England, up at its northeastern coast. Suddenly they were set upon by a score of men on brooms, flying towards them from the English coast. A battle ensued, and lots of smoke and chaos, and when the smoke cleared, the attackers were gone, and so was my son.

            “The body of my son was not found on board so I assume he is not dead but merely abducted. If this is not the work of Englishmen I do not know who it could be, and since you offer no ideas as to who it may be, and my country has no enemies, or so we thought, I must assume it was the work of Englishmen. Now you must understand me, I do believe you that your government was not behind it, but my people are asking questions: why do I sit here and do nothing while my son is held captive somewhere?

            “So unless my son is returned to me, and soon, I must strike. I am sorry Mr. Potter; there is nothing you can do to change what I must do. Unless you can find my son and give him back.”

            “I am very sorry to hear that. Well then, if my cause is already lost, I feel that I must not intrude, and that I should return at once to my country,” said Harry.

            The king did not appear to have heard him, or merely ignored him. “This is not my usual abode; I merely came here to receive you, for indeed I suspected that you would be coming.” Harry’s brow furrowed in puzzlement.

            “For indeed, this is not a king’s castle,” the king continued, “but rather, a castle kept for the comfort of important…guests.” With a flash of intuition, Harry knew what was going on, and trepidation got a hold on him. “I am sorry Mr. Potter, but with your experience of diplomacy, you must understand.”

            “Yes, I understand.” Harry replied stiffly.

            The king rose and walked to the entrance to the hall, Harry stayed where he sat.

            “You will be well taken care of.  If you need anything you must just ask for it. I must travel back to my capital tonight. You will remain my guest here at the castle for as long as it takes to resolve this…situation. Goodbye, Mr. Potter.”

            Harry sat and brooded in silence by the fire a good while after the king left. There was no hurry, for he knew, despite all the king’s elegant speech, he was a prisoner of Denmark until the prince should be found, or the tension somehow resolved. 


	2. Events Are Set In Motion

Authors’ Note:

Reviews would be appreciated.

~ThaniMag

Chapter 1: Events Are Set in Motion

The two seekers collided with a loud crash.  One wore blue and white robes, and had unruly jet black hair, and piercing green eyes.  The other wore canary yellow and black robes, and had silky blonde hair.  They wrenched their brooms away from each other, while glaring at each other with fearsome expressions.  “Curse you Malfoy!” the boy in blue spat.

            “Sorry, didn’t see you there _Potter_.  Guess my eyes don’t naturally look for gnats in my path.”  The boy addressed as Malfoy sneered back.

            “Get in my way again Malfoy and I’ll knock you off your br—“his voice was drowned out in the roaring of the crowd as a voice boomed out.

            “Stephanie Bones scores for Hufflepuff! And the score is tied at eighty to eighty!”

            Potter turned his broom and dived towards the floor without bothering to finish his sentence.  Crap, did he see the snitch again already? wondered Malfoy.  He abruptly turned and zoomed after Potter.  He accelerated his broom to its full extent as he gained on Potter and the ground got closer and closer.  He was merely a couple of feet behind Potter when the dark haired wizard reached out and grabbed the glinting snitch.  With a yell Malfoy threw himself forwards and grabbed the tail of Potter’s broom.  The broom couldn’t hold both their weights and crashed to the ground.  The impact wrenched Potter’s hand open and the snitch flew free.

            Malfoy started to pull himself to his feet, but fell to the ground when Potter’s body slammed into him.  “I told you that if you got in my way again you would pay!” hissed Potter in his ear.

            “Eat dirt Potter!” Malfoy hissed back.  They grappled on the ground, not noticing as the other players came swooping in and landed on all sides, and the people in the crowd came leaping over the barriers and ran onto the field.

            “Get off of my seeker, Potter!” roared Isaac Finch-Fletchy, the large seventh year who was Hufflepuff’s captain and one of the chasers.  He grabbed the back of Potter’s robes and heaved him off.  “I don’t give junk that you’re the prodigy of the century! You mess with my team and by God I’ll tan your hide!” He bellowed in Potter’s face.

            “Let go of Albus!” yelled Martin Corner, a Ravenclaw beater, who pulled a wand out from his quidditch robes and brandished it at Isaac.  Isaac slowly lowered Albus to the ground.  Just then the crowd of people on either side parted, and the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw heads of houses came jostling through.

            “What is the meaning of this Mr. Potter?” asked Luna Lovegood dreamily, Charms professor and head of Ravenclaw house.

            Albus, who had been fuming silently at being man-handled, spoke up.  “That _boy,_ ” he pointed at Malfoy, “knows nothing about the sport of quidditch, and plays it as if it were merely a brawl on brooms.”

            “I did nothing that was against the rule book.”  Malfoy jutted out his jaw.  “And last time I checked, _boy_ , we were both sixteen and of the same age, so you better watch who you call a boy.”

            “I was not referring to your age, merely the way you behave.”  Albus spoke with a glint in his eye.

            Malfoy leaped forwards but was grabbed by Stephanie Bones.  “Scorpius, _don’t_ ,” she whispered in his ear, and he subsided.

            “Malfoy, subdued by a girl? Ha!” Scorpius jerked but didn’t move from where he stood.

            “That is ENOUGH Mr. Potter.”  Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and head of Hufflepuff house, spoke for the first time.  “Now, if you will behave yourselves, we’ll continue the match, and we’ll have no more of your antics Malfoy.”  When no one moved he spoke more harshly.  “Get on your brooms NOW!”

            Reluctantly the players moved and clambered astride their brooms and rose slowly into the air.  Albus and Scorpius were glaring up a storm at each other.  The spectators clambered back into the stands, and the match started off again.

            Both seekers were glowering and it was some while before the snitch was spotted again. This time it was Scorpius who spotted it.  As he shot towards it, Albus caught sight of it as well and came towards it from the other direction.  Scorpius saw Albus shooting in from the other direction and knew that if they both continued on the path they were on they would collide and most likely shatter their brooms, which would result in them falling the hundred or so feet to the ground.  He saw the glint in Albus’ eye and realized he wouldn’t change direction.  With a short burst of anger, Scorpius realized it would have to be him that changed direction.  At the last moment before they collided, with the snitch in between them, Scorpius swerved to the left, but he threw out his hand in Albus’ face in a hope that it would make him lose sight of the snitch; it didn’t.  Cheers and moans erupted from the stands simultaneously and Scorpius glided slowly towards the ground in defeat.

            Albus streaked towards the ground and into the waiting arms of his team and housemates, the whole while holding the snitch aloft in triumph.

            The locker rooms were a silent and cheerless place for the Hufflepuff quidditch team.  They all sat staring at the floor gloomily.  “Well,” spoke up Isaac finally, “it doesn’t mean much. We scored one hundred and ten points today and it’s only the first game of the season, so we still have a glorious chance at the quidditch cup this year.”  Mutters of agreement spread around the room.  “Don’t be so down Scorpius, it’s not your fault. Potter _is_ called the prodigy of the century, and he, well,” Isaac shrugged, “has the seeker blood.”

            “Bogus!” yelled Scorpius springing to his feet.  “I don’t know what everyone sees in that kid!  He’s nothing special, only the son of the savior of the wizarding world. That doesn’t make him better than anyone else.  Prodigy of the century!” he sneered.  “I’ll show the world that a wizard whose only thing going for him is that he works hard, can beat the gifted prodigy that has all he could ask for.  And I’m not just talking about in quidditch. You’ll see, I’ll surpass him in casting too, just wait!”

            Isaac sighed, “No one doubts your heart Scorpius.  But sometimes, life isn’t fair and some people get all the talent, and frankly, that’s not us Hufflepuffs.”  He shrugged, as if he had accepted this fate.

            Scorpius shook his head.  “I refuse to accept that. I _will_ surpass Potter, just you wait!”

            Scorpius and Stephanie walked up to the castle side by side.  Scorpius was lost in his thoughts, staring at the ground as he continued to walk.  Stephanie however was looking off into the sky.  “You can do it you know.”

            “Wha—?” he looked up confused, emerging from his thoughts.

            “I believe you can surpass him.”  She was still not looking at him, but looking with interest at the single cloud in the sky.

            “You really think so?” he asked dubiously.

            “Yes, I do.”

            “The one person in the world. I doubt there is anyone in England that thinks Potter can be surpassed, least of all by me, a nobody.”

            “You’re not a nobody.”

            “Yes I am,” he said firmly, “my family name was blemished by my grandfather’s treachery, and if that wasn’t enough, I was the first Malfoy to ever not be in Slytherin and I ended up in _Hufflepuff_.”

            “Hey! Hufflepuff isn’t so bad, right?” she bumped his shoulder lightly.

            He smiled wryly but went on.  “And I was always a pretty abysmal caster, and the only skill I had was my decent flying.” He was staring off into space.  “It’s only been in recent years, and after a lot of work, that I’ve become the decent caster I am now.  No one ever expects me to amount to anything.” He said despairingly to the ground.

            “I do.” she whispered lightly.  She slid one arm around his shoulders, in a sign of simple camaraderie.

            For the first time he looked at her.  “Thank you,” he whispered back, and then louder, “what a pair we make, staggering up to the castle together, arm in arm and last from the field.  People will think we’re depressed because of our defeat and not just merely enjoying each other’s company and the out doors.”  With a grin at Stephanie, “race to the castle?”

            “You bet,” she said with a sly smile.  Before Scorpius could blink, or had a chance to move, Stephanie swung her leg around and knocked his out from under him, and she was away, sprinting the last distance to the castle.

            “The cheater,” muttered Scorpius under his breath, as he leaped up and sprinted after her.  He had the longer legs, and so covered more ground faster, but he was unable to fully close the distance between them, and she won by a mere two strides.  Laughing, the two of them burst into the entrance hall and, supporting one another, they made their way into the great hall for dinner.

***

            The hour was late and the Ravenclaw common room was deserted, save for one boy who lay sprawled across a couch gazing into the fire.  It was Albus.  He sighed, rolled over and folded his arms beneath his head.  He hadn’t really cared about the quidditch victory; after all, it was just another one to add to his remarkable quantity of them.  His little brawl with Scorpius he barely even remembered, for he cared not for such squabbles.

Life was boring for the Ravenclaw champion.  In recent years he had lost all desire to work, for he found no motivation.  For where would one find motivation to work when you were already top of the school?  And he was not just thinking about quidditch, but also about spell casting and school work, for Albus was the top of the school in all of them. He didn’t even need to try, for he had all the talent behind him, and didn’t need to work for excellence.

He had had a lot of expectations on him when he began at Hogwarts, with such a reputation to live up to as Harry Potter’s, savior of the wizarding world.  But he had thrived under the pressure and had immediately passed all expectations and had earned himself the title ‘Prodigy of the Century’.

Albus wanted to _do_ something.  He hated just going to Hogwarts year after year.  It was the same routine every year of school.  He would come to school, excel at all his classes, lead his quidditch team to many victories, and then he would go home for the summer.  Not that being home in the summer was ever any fun; his dad was always away on diplomatic trips to other countries, and his mom was always busy, seeing as she was the top ranking auror.

Albus had very few friends, not for lack of popularity, for he was the single most popular kid at Hogwarts, but it was this popularity that made him friendless.  There was never any lack of people wanting to be around him, but that was all because he was so famous. It was this fame that shut him off from real friendships with people.  There was always Rose, but she was his cousin, and her nose was always in her books.  There was also his older brother, but he had gone away to Romania to work with Uncle Charlie on dragons.  Then there was Lily. Well, Lily was two years younger than him, and also in a different house, and she had her own crowd of admirers, though they were mostly boys.  Unlike Albus’ mixed crowd.

Albus was alone in the world, and he hated it.  He wished that he wasn’t so special. If he was less talented he would at least have something to work towards, and he might even have friends.  But no, it was his curse to bear all the talent, his yoke of burden, and he was sick of it.  He wanted out.  He couldn’t bear Hogwarts any longer.  Albus set his brilliant mind to work, planning. 


	3. Albus Leaves Hogwarts

Reviews let me know that my story is actually being read and actually worth writing. Say anything you want, criticism is welcome.

~ThaniMag

A week later, Scorpius lay tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep.  The clock on his bedside table struck one in the morning.  He sighed and rolled out of bed.  He pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt; he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and stuck it in the pocket of his jeans.

            The only light in the room was silvery-blue moonlight that came in through the only window and cast a pool on the floor by Scorpius’ bed.

            As Scorpius pulled on his sneakers, a snore erupted from Edward Macmillan in the bed next to him. Scorpius paused briefly before sliding his sneakers on the rest of the way, and creeping out the door with as little noise as he could make.

            The common room was deserted and only a pale glow emanated from the fireplace. Scorpius strode across the room and out of the portrait hole. He wandered aimlessly through the dark castle, up and down corridors, just thinking about life.

            Scorpius’ feet finally brought him to the entrance hall, where he paused. He still wasn’t tired, and didn’t want to return to the dormitories. While he stood in the middle of the hall, trying to decide what to do, the doors leading to the grounds swung slowly open.

            A figure stood framed in the doorway.  The bright moon was right behind his head, so he was cloaked in darkness and Scorpius couldn’t recognize him. The figure took a step forwards into the hall, and Scorpius was able to see who it was. It was Albus Potter, and he didn’t look like he was in a good mood.

            Albus looked as surprised as Scorpius felt when he caught sight of him, standing in the center of the entrance hall.

            They stood there, merely gaping at each other for a minute, and then a grin split across Albus’ features. “It’s perfect,” Albus whispered to himself and Scorpius barely caught the words.

            “What’s perfect?” Asked Scorpius, confused.

            “For once in my life I might actually be thankful for your miserable existence, Malfoy.”

            Before Scorpius could ask him what he meant, Albus was shooting across the floor at an alarming speed, and had launched himself onto Scorpius. Scorpius hit the ground hard with Albus on top of him. The breath was knocked out of him and Albus punched him hard in the stomach multiple times.

            Trying desperately to get the chance to breathe, Scorpius brought his fist up in a right hook that caught Albus in the side of the head. Albus was thrown from Scorpius and skidded a few yards across the ground.

            Gasping for breath Scorpius managed to pull himself onto one arm and gasp out, “You… _git_ , Potter! What the hell was that for?”

            “You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, Malfoy.” Albus was already on his feet and rushing Scorpius again. Scorpius barely managed to roll away, missing a kick aimed at his stomach.

            Scorpius leapt to his feet only to be knocked backwards as Albus barged into him. Scorpius’ head slammed into the wall and stars exploded in front of his eyes as he collapsed to his knees. “Enough!” Scorpius gasped out, “What do you want with me?”

            “I just need to use you for a bit Malfoy.” Said Albus smugly. “Now get to your feet!” Albus now had his wand out, pointing at Malfoy’s chest.

            Scorpius pulled himself to his feet and clutched his head with his hand. His head wasn’t bleeding, but it felt like it was going to explode.

            Albus motioned with his wand that he wanted Scorpius to move. Wondering what in the world Albus was doing, Scorpius followed where he beckoned. He didn’t notice where they were going in particular, just that they were climbing upwards.

            At last they came to a halt, and Scorpius recognized the gargoyle in front of them as the entrance to the headmaster’s office. He had never actually been in the headmaster’s office, but everyone knew where it was.

            “Professor Flitwick?” Albus spoke quietly. “I know you can hear me, open up.” The gargoyle slid aside to reveal the staircase. Albus motioned Scorpius forward. Scorpius went up the stairs and entered the most crowded office he had ever seen.

            The only furniture in the room was a large desk, three chairs, a few low tables, a set of cabinets, and a large bookshelf that ran the length of one wall. Books and papers and miscellaneous objects littered every inch of space, including two of the chairs and most of the floor.

            The walls were covered in portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses. On a peg occupying one part of the wall hung the sorting hat, and on the desk, in its glass case, was the sword of Gryffindor.

            Occupying the third and largest chair, which stood directly behind the huge desk, sat the headmaster, professor Flitwick. Nobody knew exactly how old he was, but they all knew that he was OLD. He stood at about three and a half feet, and had a white beard that went to his toes and white hair that reached his ankles.

            He did not seem at all surprised, or disturbed, that two ruffled looking teenagers had shown up at his door at two in the morning. Or that one happened to be holding his wand pointing at the other in a threatening manner.

            “Why good evening Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. Or should I say good night?” The headmaster looked completely at ease.

            “Don’t screw around with me, Professor. You know there is only one reason I would be here at this time of night.  You refused to listen to me before, but now you must, or I will kill Malfoy.”

            “WHAT?! Potter don’t be a stupid prat!” yelled Scorpius.

            “Shuttup Malfoy, if you want your life!” retorted Albus.

            “You are no killer Albus.” Flitwick spoke in a low voice.

            “You want to bet? I’m sick of this life, and I will do anything to get out of this bloody school. When I came to you almost a whole week ago you could have just let me out peaceably, but no, you had to force my hand to this act. Ever since you refused to let me leave the school, I’ve been working during the nights to try and find a way past the enchantments on the front gate.

            “I’ve been unsuccessful so far, but as I returned tonight, I found Malfoy here, and formed this plan on the spot, as it was the only way I could think of that you might finally listen to me and take me seriously.”

            “There are other ways we can work this out, Albus,” said Flitwick, still apparently at complete ease.

            “No! You listen, old man. You are going to come down right now and let me out the front gate. I will only keep Malfoy as long as it takes to make sure I’m safe from anyone coming after me.”

            “How far do you think you’ll get Albus, before your parents catch up with you and bring you back?”

            “They don’t have the time to come after me. My dad is in Denmark and my mom is busier than ever with her auror work. Not to mention, I don’t plan to make it easy for anyone to come after me. Now get a move on down to the gates!”

            “Are you sure about this Albus?”

            “Yes! Now MOVE!”

            As Flitwick rose from his chair he completely vanished behind the large desk, but reappeared in a second. “If you would lead the way professor, then Malfoy can follow, and I’ll come right behind him,” said Albus.

            The small procession moved through the silent corridors and past the sleeping portraits in their frames. Eventually they winded their way down and out into the moonlight.

            It was a bright and still night. The not-quite-full moon shone down and illuminated the grounds. There was no breeze to toy with the leaves of the forbidden forest.

            The three figures trekked forwards in silence, none breaking the silence. Scorpius still felt like his head had a stereo blasting inside it, but he didn’t really feel like complaining when Albus was threatening his life.

            Finally the trio arrived at the entrance to the grounds. “ _Accio!_ ” hissed Albus. After waiting for a few seconds, a backpack came shooting over the grounds and fell to the dirt at Albus’ feet.

            “Now professor, get started if you will.” Albus looked over at Flitwick. “No quick movements with your wand though.”

            Flitwick reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. Stepping forward he placed the tip of his wand on the gates and began to mutter incantations under his breath. This was the only sound that broke the silence of the night. After a few moments the gates swung open.

            “Thank you professor,” Albus said as he turned towards Scorpius. “You’ll have to come with me just until I’m safely away. If you cause any trouble, you will experience real pain. Here.” Albus rummaged through the backpack until he came up with two miniature brooms. Pulling them out, he enlarged them, and threw one to Scorpius who caught it deftly.

            “It’s a Sonic 2, the latest and fastest model. Don’t bother trying to escape with it—it’s magically bound to my broom, and can’t fly further than twenty feet away.    

“Before we go, I’m going to have to ask you to give me your wand, Malfoy.” Without objecting, Scorpius pulled his wand from his pocket and handed it over. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he would be able to draw his wand and hex Albus faster than Albus hex him when Albus had his wand already pointing right at him.

            The two teenagers mounted their brooms and shot off into the night, leaving Flitwick looking after them with a solemn expression on his face. For the past week Albus had been requesting to be let out of the grounds, but Flitwick had continued to refuse on the basis that students weren’t allowed to leave without permission from their parents.

            He thought he had been doing the right thing, and hadn’t bothered to talk to Albus’ parents. Now it seemed that he had pushed Albus into the dark deed of threatening the life of another student. He hadn’t thought Albus was so far lost from the light and joy that living life gave to people,

            An innocent student was now in a dangerous situation, and Flitwick was mostly to blame. He didn’t think Albus would go so far as to commit murder, but he also hadn’t thought Albus would go as far as he had already gone.

            He didn’t know much about Scorpius Malfoy, but he had a small hope, a very small hope, that maybe Scorpius would be good for Albus, and make him see the light and come back.

            Albus and Scorpius shot out of the sky and landed in front of the International Floo Traveling Network. As they dismounted, Albus muttered a spell under his breath. A silver thread of light extended from his wand and wrapped itself around Scorpius wrist before disappearing.

            “What was that?” asked Scorpius glumly.

            “Just a spell to make sure you don’t try to escape from me in your idiocy. You can’t go more than ten feet from me.” Any hopes Scorpius had of getting away vanished instantly.

Albus shrunk the brooms and stowed them in his pack, then together they strode through the revolving glass doors into the dull, but rather large, room.

            Fireplaces ranged along the length of the three walls that didn’t contain the doors. Above each fireplace was the name of a large city somewhere in the world.

            In the center of the room was a table, on which sat a huge jar of floo powder. In one corner was a wizard with his feet propped up on a large desk, having an idle conversation with two more wizards across from him.

            All three wizards looked up as Scorpius and Albus entered. Albus ignored them and shoved Scorpius ahead of him, grabbing a handful of powder as he passed the center of the room.

            The wizard behind the desk cried out, “Hey wait a minute! You got to fill out these forms first before traveling internationally, and if you’re underage you need a parent to sign too!”

            Albus ignored him and threw the handful of powder into the fireplace labeled ‘Chicago.’ He pushed Scorpius in and leapt in after him.

            The two young wizards came spinning out of the fireplace trailing soot and ashes. Albus drew himself to his feet, brushed off his robes and looked around. They were in an identical room to the one they had just left. This room was more crowded, however, with around a dozen people milling around, and there was morning light pouring in through the glass doors.

            _Of course,_ thought Albus, _the time difference, I’d forgotten._ Albus pulled Scorpius to his feet and drew the blond wizard after him as he walked over to the desk. This time it was a middle-aged witch who sat behind it.

            “I beg your pardon, but would you mind pointing me and my friend in the right direction for the nearest motel?” Asked Albus politely.

            The woman replied in a bored voice, “What standards are you looking for in this hotel?”

            “Anything, as long as it’s as cheap as you can get and on the low-down.”

            “You’re in luck. There’s one fitting that description only a few blocks from here. As you leave, take a left, then the second right, followed by another left, and then go four blocks and it’s on your right. It’s called _Jane & Isaac’s._ ”

            “Thank you.” Albus turned and dragged Scorpius outside after him.

Albus and Scorpius struggled through the crowded Chicago streets until they finally arrived outside the motel.

            It was a stone building, five stories high and barely thirty feet wide. Neon lights with dysfunctional letters spelled out the motel’s name on the building’s side. There were two windows that could be seen on the side of the building, one was boarded up, and the other was filled in with cement. Streaks of blackness and dirt where obvious here and there on the wall, and cobwebs could be seen running along the doorframe.

            Scorpius’ jaw dropped. “You’re flippin’ _kidding_ me right? This place looks like a dump that smucks would spend a few hours at between two and three in the morning. Are we seriously going to _stay_ here?”

            “Hm…” Albus gazed up at the building. “Guess she took me quite literally when I said ‘anything as long as it’s as cheap as you can get.’ Well it certainly _looks_ like it’s on the lowdown. Well, it’s where we’re staying so don’t frown on it too much.”

            “ _What?_ You can’t be serious; I’m not going to stay in a slum like this.” Scorpius looked at Albus as if he was going insane.

            “I don’t remember asking you’re opinion, Malfoy. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re my prisoner at the moment, and I really couldn’t care less what you think about it, you rich spoiled brat.”

            Scorpius fumed silently as they entered the motel.

            Even though it was brilliantly bright outside, it was dark in the lobby of the motel, and only one dim lamp offered any light. A couple of dusty, olive-green couches were thrown up against one wall, occupied by a sprawled-out woman who appeared to be asleep, and a man who was watching TV on a stand across the room.

            The man looked up when they entered, rose to his feet, and crossed to the front desk. He looked like he was around thirty years old. He was big and solid looking, with black slicked-back hair, a couple days of stubble on his face, and a lot of piercings. A heavy silver chain was slung around his neck. He looked like the type of guy you would meet in a dark alley.

            “Hello there gentlemen. I am Joe, the co-owner of this lovely paradise.”

            Scorpius, who had been looking around the room while sucking on a mint he had found sitting in a dish on the desk, started to choke and cough. Albus merely raised his eyebrows.

            “I thought this was Jane and Isaac’s? Where are they?” Asked Albus.

            “Jane and Isaac were my parents. This motel is now run by me and my sister Isabella.” With a wave of his hand he indicated the young woman asleep on the sofa.

            “So why don’t you change the name to _Isabella & Joe’s_?”

            Joe shrugged. “The current name has a better ring to it. Anyways, how can I help you boys?”

            “I’d like to have a room with two twin beds.”

            “How long will you be staying?”

            “Not sure yet. Most likely for a good while, though. I would like to pay on a weekly basis if I may.”

            “Sure thing, Mr.—?”

            “Just call me Albus. Is there anything I need to know about?”

            “We don’t serve any meals, and you can do whatever the hell you want in your room as long as you pay rent. That’s all.”

            “Thanks. So how much would that be per week?”

            “We’ll cut you a deal of a mere five galleons.”

            “Sure, here’s for the first two weeks.” Albus reached into his bag and dropped a small pile of galleons onto the desk.

            “Here’s your room key.” Joe slid a slid a key across the desk that was labeled ‘7’. “Our policy is not to require any information on our guests, so as long as they pay. You’re completely able to do whatever, as far as we’re concerned.”

            “Thank you, Joe.” Albus pocketed the key and strode off in the direction of a staircase Scorpius had failed to notice across the room.

            They walked up to the first floor, and strode along till they came to room number seven. Upon entering, Scorpius saw one of the smallest, most crammed motel rooms he had ever seen.

            The room was twenty feet across, and had two twin beds crammed in with one wardrobe, a desk and a small TV. A ceiling fan whirred quietly, and didn’t do much to prevent the stuffy heat. The room also contained a bathroom with a toilet and shower.

            “I’m never going to be able to complain about staying at the Radisson ever again after this piece of crap…” Scorpius was looking around him with disdain.

            “Like I said, spoiled rich brat. I’m used to Days Inn at best, so I don’t really mind. Perhaps you should lower your standards.” Albus was looking at Scorpius with annoyance. 

“Okay I’m going to take a nap, seeing as we’re on English time and it’s like four in the morning there. If you disturb me in any way, you’ll regret it Malfoy. And I’ll tell you right now, don’t bother trying to escape, it won’t work, and it’ll be painful for you.”

            With that, Albus threw himself down on one of the twin beds and rolled over and faced the wall.


	4. Mrs Potter

I would just like to strongly urge any of you who like the story at all to leave a review. I would like feedback on the plot and what you think about it. Thank you!

            Ginevra Potter sat in her office, leaning back in her comfortable chair with her feet propped up on her desk. Her hands were behind her head as she gazed up at the blank white ceiling above her.

            She had been really busy lately, but she was taking a moment to just sit back, relax, and think over the situation.

Harry had just left for Denmark three days ago. No word had been heard from him since then, but she wasn’t that worried. She knew it often took several days to get in to see a king, and he would hardly send word before there was any to send.

The prince of Denmark was missing and the Danes were blaming England for his disappearance, though nobody in England knew what was going on at all.

On top of that, ancient magical history texts were being stolen from multiple locations. Nobody knew who was behind the thefts, but it was a sizeable group to be pulling off these kinds of robberies.

The first site had been a library in London, the second had been the Zabini Manor, and the last one, which had occurred only two days ago, had been the Ministry of Magic itself. These people were efficient, and knew what they wanted; they were in and out in no time at all, leaving everything undisturbed—with the exception of the books that were missing.

The door to her office crashed open with a bang, and Ginny jumped to her feet with a start. The headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Flitwick, stood in the doorway.

“Hello Mrs. Potter, sorry for intruding so suddenly, but I have some urgent news for you.” His eyes were solemn.

“No not at all, Flitwick. What’s the matter?”

“It’s about your son, Albus.”

“What about him? Is he in trouble at school? Has he been getting into fights?” The concern was evident in her voice.

Flitwick took a deep breath, then launched into the tale of all that had happened the last week.

Ginny’s face started to pale, and then her face went completely ashen.

“But—but I just don’t understand. I thought Albus was happy at Hogwarts. I don’t know what would drive him to this. It just doesn’t make sense. And to go so far as to threaten another student’s life. . . .” She fell into silence, then spoke up again, “And at a time like this, I’m already overloaded, and on top of that Harry’s gone . . . I don’t know what to do.”

“I know, I was shocked as well. And I feel so terrible— I am at least somewhat responsible for Albus falling to the measures he did, and I am sincerely sorry.”

Ginny was already under a boatload of stress as it was. She couldn’t hold it in and she burst into tears. She sat down and put her head in her hands.

Flitwick hesitated, and then started to move towards her, but she spoke.

“Please Flitwick, I appreciate you coming and telling me yourself, but I would like to be left alone for a bit.”

Flitwick hesitated once more, and then said, “Of course. If there is anything I can do, please tell me.” He turned and strode out of the office, swinging the door closed quietly behind him as he left.

Ginny spun her desk chair around so that it faced the window. She looked out over London and wondered what had possibly happened to Albus to make him do such a thing. 

Then her thoughts turned to what she should try and do about it.

She was fully loaded with the case of the stolen magical texts, and she knew there was absolutely no way she could get the ministry to give her time off to go look for Albus, even though it was a family emergency.

Harry was in Denmark, so he couldn’t go look for Albus, and her oldest son, James, was in Romania, and it would take too long to get him over to England.

Her thoughts roved to Ron, but his job at the ministry was keeping him on his toes as it was.

Finally, Ginny’s thoughts turned to Hermione. Yes, she was the perfect one to help out: she knew and loved Albus dearly, and would be more than willing to go after him. Hermione was a writer—one who spent three months of the year experiencing other wizarding cultures and researching their history, and then nine months at home, intensively writing her book.

Luckily for Ginny, Hermione had gotten home from her three months of travel just before the summer, and she would be able to take some time off her writing to go look for Albus.

Leaping out of her chair, Ginny grabbed a pinch of floo powder out of a jar on her desk, and threw it into the fireplace. Shoving her head into the flames she yelled out Hermione and Ron’s address.

She looked out at a nicely furnished room with Persian rugs on the floor, and souvenirs of Hermione’s travels lining the walls. On a couch in the center of the room, facing the fireplace, sat Hermione. She lay with her legs curled under her, a piece of parchment in her lap, and a quill in her hand. At the moment she was sucking on the end of her quill thoughtfully.

“Hermione?” Hermione jumped at the sound of Ginny’s voice, the parchment fell out of her lap and onto the floor.

“Oh, Ginny, it’s you. You frightened me.”  Hermione reached down and scooped the parchment off the floor.

“Sorry about that. Look, I have something I need to talk to you about.” She told Hermione all that Flitwick had told her. “So I was wondering if you could go look for him. With Harry gone, and I’m completely loaded at work, and I know Ron is too…”

Hermione’s face was full of concern at this point. “Of course Ginny! There’s no way I wouldn’t do this for you.” They both fell into silence for a few moments. Ginny looked at the floor, while Hermione looked at Ginny’s face with concern.

“Are you okay Ginny? You know this isn’t your fault,” said Hermione.

“But isn’t it?” Asked Ginny quietly, still looking at the floor. “I was the one who raised him. I’m responsible for him.”

“Sometimes things just happen, and there’s nothing anyone can do. Who knows what is going through Albus’ head right now—or what’s going through his heart. Something could have happened at school, something could have hurt him real bad, there’s no way of knowing.”

Ginny sighed. “I know, but I still feel like I wasn’t there for him when he needed someone.”

“Do you need someone to be with you Ginny? Do you want me to come over there?”

“No thanks Hermione, I think I just need some time to be alone.”

“Okay then. . . .” Hermione looked really worried now. “I’ll get ready and go right away.”

“Thanks a lot, Hermione.”

“Anything for you, Ginny.”

Ginny pulled her head back out of the fireplace and collapsed into her chair. She gritted her teeth as she threatened to fall apart. She couldn’t, not at a time like this; she needed to focus on her work. Pulling herself together she drew a stack of papers towards her.

Hermione rose to her feet, and placed the parchment and quill on the small coffee table in front of the couch. She went up to her room and threw some muggle clothes into a bag and changed as fast as she could.

Rushing down into the kitchen she wrote a hasty note explaining to Ron what was going on. Leaving the note on the table she ran out the door. Out on the lawn she hesitated.  She wanted someone to help in her search, but she didn’t know who to go to.

Her mind ran through options. The only person she could think of who wasn’t completely loaded with something right now was Bill Weasley, her brother-in-law.

Spinning on the spot, Hermione disapparated with a bang.

Bill started, and jumped with a yelp, when his sister-in-law appeared between him and the TV. “Hermione?! What are you doing here?”

Hermione turned and looked at the TV where _Jaws_ was playing, screams emanated from the mechanical box, and blood and body parts spewed across the screen. “You’re watching muggle TV?”

Bill looked sheepish. “Yeah, it’s a good way to pass the time when you have nothing else to do.”

“Where’s Fleur?”

“She’s out shopping, why?”

Hermione quickly explained everything to Bill. An expression of complete shock covered his features. “I was wondering if you could come with me and try to find him and bring him back.” 

“Of course, I could hardly turn family down when I’m on holiday anyway. Wait here.” Bill stood up and turned to run to his room. He was a big guy, not too tall, but rather stocky. He had long hair pulled back into a ponytail, and an earring glimmered in one ear, just like the days when Hermione had been a young student attending Hogwarts. His face was badly scarred from the time he had fought Fenrir Greyback, brutal traces of the battle ran up and down and sideways across his big face, making him unrecognizable to people who had only known him before the traumatic experience. A large beard grew on his chin.

 Through the open door Hermione could see clothes flying left and right as Bill tried to pack in a short amount of time.

Hermione looked back at the TV just in time to see a shark pop out of nowhere and swallow a man whole. She raised her eyebrows.

“Lovely movie you’re watching in here, Bill.” She said with a grin to herself.

His voice drifted in from the other room. “I was especially bored, and hey, that’s a good movie, even if it is really gory.” Hermione laughed.

Hermione heard a door slam somewhere in the house. A sweet voice with a slight French accent flowed through the house like a stream bubbling down a brook. “Bill, darling, I’m home!”

Fleur came prancing through the door to the front hall. In her arms she carried a couple of bags. A bright smile covered her face, but when she saw Hermione she halted.

“Oh, Hermione, what are you doing here?”

“I was—“ Hermione started to explain, but halted when Bill entered the room with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Fleur, you’re here. Great, that makes this so much easier.” Bill closed the distance between them, relieved her of her bags, and drew her into his arms. He explained to her quietly as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

Hermione occupied herself with watching the TV, attempting to give them a little privacy.

When Bill’s voice stopped, she glanced up, thinking that he was finished. When she saw that the two of them were sharing a kiss, she hastily looked down, her cheeks flushing a little.

She began to wish she had had a chance to say goodbye to Ron, but the situation had forced her to leave before he came home.

Bill’s voice cut across her reverie. “Hermione, let’s go,” he said gruffly. Giving Fleur a brief hug, Hermione raced into the hall after Bill, and out onto the front steps.

“Where do we start?” Asked Bill, turning to face Hermione.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. “Let’s try the International Floo Network. I’m not sure, but I think Albus might have headed for America.”

“What?! Where did you come up with that idea? That’s so random.”

“It’s not, actually. Ever since he was young, Albus has expressed the desire to get out of England, to go see some other countries, and America was always first on his list. He always talked about wanting to go there.”

Bill shrugged, “Well, we have no other clues. Let’s check it out.” Bill and Hermione disapparated without another word.

They appeared in London, in front of the glass doors of the International Floo Network. The street was a typical crowded London street. They pushed forwards together and into the building.

The place was semi-crowded with people coming and going from fireplaces all over the world. They pushed their way over to the desk where a tall wizard with silky blonde hair was having a discussion with the wizard behind the desk.

“Malfoy?” Asked Hermione in surprise.

The blonde wizard looked up. “Granger, it’s been awhile,” he said with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, how are you? Is work going well?”

Malfoy frowned at this. “It’s on both work and family business that I’m here, actually. And no, I’m not doing amazingly well, since I found out this morning that your nephew has kidnapped my son and broken the law by leaving through the floo network without the permission of a guardian.”

“So he did leave the country, as I thought…”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, nothing. I was talking to myself, but did I hear you right? You’re here on family _and_ work business?”

“Yes, as you know I’m an Auror, and it just so happened that I got assigned to hunt down Albus and Scorpius for breaking the law. I was just getting information from this helpful gentleman here.” He nodded at the wizard behind the desk. “It appears they came through late last night and leapt into the floo channel leading to Chicago.”

Bill leaned over and whispered in Hermione’s ear. “It appears you were right.” Despite the circumstances, Hermione couldn’t help but feel a little smug.

“Thank you for that information. I think we should be running along now. We don’t want to lose any time in looking for them.”

They turned and started to make for the Chicago fireplace when Malfoy called out, “Wait!” They stopped and turned. “Since we both wish to find our children, maybe we should work together. What do you think?”

            Hermione was surprised. “Yeah sure, I guess, why not?”

            “Excellent,” Malfoy replied with a smile.

            The three of them grabbed some floo powder, and one by one stepped into the fireplace for Chicago.

            It was dark as they immerged from the fireplace. The cold tiled marble room was deserted except for a young woman who sat behind a desk in the corner. It was dusk outside, the sun having just gone down.

            As they strode out into the street, they were deafened by the sound of gunfire. 

On their left, cops were ducking behind two police cars stopped in the middle of the road. On their right, a gang of what looked like mobsters were using dumpsters and light-posts for cover.

They were caught in the middle of a gunfight.

            Bill threw himself in front of Hermione, then scooped her up in his large arms and sprinted towards the nearest police car and dove behind it.

            Malfoy went for his wand but then a mobster caught sight of him. He fired off a shot that hit Malfoy in the arm. His wand flew from his hand as his arm fell limp at his side, blood was spreading out from the where the bullet had entered.

            The mobster who had shot him jumped from behind the large dumpster he had been using for cover, rushed over, and tackled Malfoy to the ground. Pushing the point of his gun into Malfoy’s temple he yelled out, “Stop firing or I blow his head off!”

            Immediately all gunfire ceased. Hermione risked a glance around the side of the car, and saw Malfoy wincing in pain as he cradled his injured arm.

            The mobster resumed speaking, “You’re going to let us leave now. If anyone comes after us, we’ll kill this man. After we are safely away, I’ll let him go unharmed.”

            The police didn’t reply. The mobsters all got up from their respective hiding spots and, leaping into two Toyota’s that stood nearby, whipped around the corner, taking Malfoy with them.

            Right before they disappeared, Hermione pulled her wand out in a flash, and, pointing at the Toyota Malfoy had been shoved into, hissed a charm. Then she hastily hid her wand again, before any of the Muggles had seen it.

            One of the cops ran over to them. “Are you all right?”

            “Yes, we’re unharmed officer,” replied Bill as he helped Hermione to her feet.

            The worry on the cop’s face decreased a bit. “Do you know who that blonde man was?”

            “Why ye-“ Before Bill had a chance to finish, Hermione stomped down on his foot and interrupted.

            “No officer, I’ve never seen him before,” Hermione lied, knowing that she and Bill could save Malfoy a lot faster without having to go to the Muggle police station and wasting a lot of time there.

            “Well if you’re unharmed, and you don’t know who that gentleman was, then I guess you’re free to go,” said the cop, looking a little confused.

            As the cops jumped in their cars and rushed away, Bill looked at Hermione questioningly. “I put a tracing charm on the back of one of the cars. If we told the cops we knew Malfoy, they just would have taken us to their station and we would have to waste a lot of time. This way we can rescue him in a minimal amount of time.”

            “Ah, you really are a smart piece of work,” Bill complimented Hermione.

            Hermione strode over and picked Malfoy’s wand off the street. “We’re going to need a car.”

            Bill grinned, “As long as I get to drive.”

            “Sure, if you want,” Hermione replied dismissively.

            Hermione gazed up at the sky. She could tell already that finding her nephew was going to be an adventure. They had barely gotten here and already they had been thrown into the middle of a gunfight and someone had gotten kidnapped.


	5. The Fight Club

            Scorpius swam through the murky depths of sleep and finally awoke. The reddish-orange light of late afternoon was slanting through the blinds that covered the single window in the room.

            He looked over at the other bed and jolted fully awake when he noticed it was empty.

            He leapt from the bed and tore out of the room and down the hall, heading for a door at the end of the hall which was a back way out of the hotel.

            He heard the pounding of pursuit behind him as someone chased after him down the hall. Just as he reached the door leading out of the building, he was hit from behind with a hex. His body instantly locked up, but the momentum of his sprint sent him flying through the door and crashing to the ground in a small back alley.

            Since his body was frozen up, he couldn’t move, and all he could see was a small stretch of sky spanning the small distance between the tall buildings on either side of the street.

            A head full of shaggy black hair and two piercing green eyes swam into his vision.

            Albus sighed. “Scorpius you stupid prat, I told you not to try and escape. I really thought you were a bit brighter than this. I stand corrected.”

            Scorpius glared up at Albus from his undignified position on the ground.

            With a flick of his wand Albus released Scorpius from the spell. Scorpius pushed himself to his feet, brushing some alley filth off of his clothes in the process.

            “Did you really think I would leave you alone in the room without taking precautions?” Albus’ eyes flashed with bitter amusement. “Sure I took off the binding charm, but I put a new charm on the door that would tell me if you opened it.

            “Now I’m just going to put the old charm back on.” Albus tapped Scorpius on the wrist with his wand, and the silvery rope of light wound around his forearm and disappeared like before.

            “You can’t blame me for trying, Potter,” Scorpius said defensively.

            “I’m not in the mood to make you feel pain, but don’t try again. It’s useless. Besides, I’ll let you go eventually anyway. Don’t be an uncooperative prat.”

            “Don’t call me a prat.”

            “Stupid prat,” Albus said, as if asking Scorpius what he could do about it.

            Scorpius merely glared at Albus’ back as he followed him back into the motel.

            Albus led Scorpius back to the lobby. Joe was nowhere in sight, but the young woman who had previously been sleeping stood behind the desk.

            “Sorry about that Isabella,” began Albus, leaning one elbow on the top of the desk, “there was a brief . . . disturbance.” Albus shot Scorpius a side-long glance.

            “No problem at all,” Isabella flashed Albus a large smile. Scorpius guessed she was at about twenty years of age. She had deep hazel eyes and short, cute, brown hair.

            “Now, if you could point us in the direction of a cheap place to eat? I haven’t eaten in ages, and I’m simply starving.” He gave her a smile.

            Smiling back she said, “There’s a muggle restaurant called McDonald’s. It’s cheap, decent, and right down the road.”

            “Sounds great, but I don’t have any American muggle money. Do you think you could trade me some dollars for galleons?”

            She grinned once more, overeager to please Albus. “Why of course I can.”

            Albus exchanged some money with her and then set out, with Scorpius following along seeing as he had no other choice.

            By now night had fallen, but they had no trouble finding McDonald’s. They ordered a couple of meals and grabbed a booth. Scorpius and Albus sat facing each other across the table.

            “Dang, this stuff is _delicious_!” Exclaimed Scorpius, taking a large bite of his burger, then washing it down with a couple fries and a swig of coke. “How come we don’t have McDonald’s in England?”

            “They probably do, you just haven’t eaten at many muggle restaurants or fast food branches. Being the rich brat you are, you probably stick to the rich, gourmet wizard restaurants.”

            Scorpius looked thoughtful. “True, I should get out more.” Albus raised his eyebrows at Scorpius but didn’t say anything.

            Scorpius paused with a French fry halfway to his mouth. “Why are you running away, Potter? What do you plan to do?”

            Albus gazed steadily at Scorpius, and Scorpius gazed steadily back.

            Albus spoke slowly and quietly. “I left because I was sick of that life. I want to _live_ my life, not spend it in a school, or behind an office desk, or playing a stupid sport.”

            “I thought you loved Quidditch?”

            “Oh I do, but it’s pointless to life.”

            “’Pointless to life?’” Scorpius echoed Albus’ words, “how do you figure that? The important things in life are doing what you love, doing what gets you out of bed in the morning. Also, small experiences that you enjoy, like this,” he gestured at the food, “enjoying a meal you like. Those are the things that make life worth living.”

            Albus just stared at him. “Are you _mental?_ Eating _food_ is what makes life worth living? Quidditch, a simple game?”

            “That’s what I believe, and it’s what makes going on worth it for me.”

            Albus snorted. “You’ve gone mental. Oh wait, you’ve always been mental. You were mental from the day your ugly face came out of your mother.”

            “ _What_ would _you_ say makes life worth living?”

            “I don’t know, but I know it sure as heck isn’t sitting at Hogwarts doing _NOTHING_. I’ve come here to try and find something that _does_ make life worth living, if there even is such a thing.”

            It was Scorpius turn to simply stare at Albus. Scorpius opened his mouth to say something, but Albus cut him off. “We are _FINISHED_ with this conversation, understood?” Scorpius nodded silently and resumed eating his food.

            The two teenagers finished off their meal in silence. Once finished they rose to their feet, and Albus lead the way out of the restaurant. It was fully dark outside now, and it had started to rain. “Where to now?” Scorpius asked looking over at Albus.

            “A fight club. Follow me.” Albus plunged into the darkness. Scorpius stood staring after him, his jaw hanging open in surprise, before plunging into the darkness to catch up to him.

            They went down many winding streets and through countless dark alleys. Scorpius was hopelessly lost, but he continued to follow Albus faithfully. Finally Albus stopped abruptly in the middle of an abandoned alley. It was so sudden that Scorpius ran into him.

            “Watch it!” hissed Albus.

            “Sorry,” muttered Scorpius in response.

            They stood without speaking for a few minutes, Albus looking around, and Scorpius ruing how cold he was. The rain silently ran in rivers off their soaked bodies.

            Finally Albus turned abruptly to his left and tapped on the alley wall and hissed something. A wooden door materialized where stone alley wall had been but a moment before. A sign on the door read: ‘Admittance By Invitation Only’.

            A peep hole in the door slid back to reveal a pair of blue eyes. Albus stepped forwards and muttered something Scorpius couldn’t hear the person behind the door. The peep hole immediately shut and then the door swung inward to reveal a rather obese man with long blonde dreadlocks and a blonde beard.

            He motioned them in. Once they stepped in he shut the door behind them and beckoned for them to follow him. They were in a narrow dark hall. They followed behind the large man until they were in a large, crowded, noisy room.

            The room was as dark as the hall; the only light came from large lava lamps placed sporadically across the room. It was hazy from smoke and the lava lamps created neon shades of pink and purple.

            Three sides of the room were tiered, rather like an amphitheater. There was a bar along the wall to their left, and a stage on which some young women were dancing obscenely in a rather small amount of clothing. Against the wall to their right a band was playing.

            Booths and tables were spread throughout.  Directly in front of them, at the bottom of the room, was a large square platform on which two people were locked in a duel. There was a glass pole at each corner of the platform which created an invisible shield, blocking any spell that missed its target, and keeping bystanders safe from potential injury.

            The big blonde man led them across the room to the bar and had a quick discussion with the bartender, who was as skinny as a pole and had long black dreadlocks.

            The bartender looked over the blonde man’s large shoulder at the two teens. Albus was looking rather solemn, and Scorpius was looking around with keen interest.

            The bartender then waved away the blonde man and indicated that Albus and Scorpius should come closer. Albus looked wary as he stepped towards the man, and the bartender laughed, though it was barely audible in the loud, crowded room. “I’m not going to hurt you kid.”

            Albus had to speak loudly to be heard. “Don’t call me a kid.”

            The bartender raised his eyebrows, and looked amused. “So what are you doing here?” He asked the question as if he already knew the answer.

            “I want to fight.” Albus sounded determined.

            The bartender didn’t look surprised in the least. “Don’t you think you’re a little on the young side? Some of these guys have three times your age and experience.”

            “Just put me in the ring and I’ll show you my skills with a wand are far beyond my age. I can take any of these goons.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the stage where the fighting was going on.

            “I tell you what, I like the look of you so I’ll put you in the next round. It happens to be a free sign-up. _If_ you survive, then I’ll let you try your hand at a one-on-one standard fight. Just so you know, there is no guarantee you _will_ survive. The rules are that anything goes. The round ends when your opponent either can’t continue, forfeits, or jumps off the stage. If you knock your opponent off the stage, it’s as if they couldn’t continue to compete. Meaning, they lose the fight, but they can still fight again later. But if you do choose to jump off the stage or forfeit, you are not allowed to participate in this fight club again, understood?”

            Albus nodded without a word. “You still want to participate?” Again the wordless nod. “If anything happens to you, you accept full responsibility. As I said, the next round is a free sign-up, so you’ll be in the ring with however many people get the whim to fight. So it’ll be kind of chaotic and you could end up getting trampled to death. Would your blonde friend like to enter?” He looked over at Scorpius who shook his head vehemently. The bartender grinned, “A smart one.

            “Look, the current round is just ending; make your way down onto the stage.”

            Albus pulled out his wand and turned to face Scorpius. “I’m going to extend the range of the charm, but you still won’t be able to get away. Don’t bother trying, just get a drink, find a seat, and enjoy the fight. Okay?” 

Albus left and fought his way across to the stage, while Scorpius found a seat at the bar and ordered a simple butterbeer. As he sat down, a middle-aged woman in the next seat gave him a sly smile and slid her hand onto his thigh. “Hey there handsome.”

            Scorpius choked on his butterbeer. He leapt up, knocking her hand aside. “You creep, get away from me!”

            The woman scowled and turned the other way as Scorpius wandered off, found an empty table, and settled in to watch Albus’ fight.

            Albus was one of a dozen wizards standing on the stage, wands held tightly in hand. Scorpius had to give Albus some credit, he didn’t look nervous at all, despite the fact that he could very well lose his life in this fight.

            Albus was the youngest of all the people on stage. Everyone else looked somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five, except one man who’s hair glimmered with gray strands.

            A proctor stood near the stage and yelled “begin!” into his amplified wand. Immediately the whole stage was engulfed in smoke. There were flashes of light, bangs, and yells of pain, but nobody could see anything.

            After a couple minutes the smoke began to clear, and Scorpius found himself anxiously looking for Albus. The smoke faded, and in the middle of the stage stood the man with the gray hairs, a small smile on his face.

            The stage was littered with prone and motionless bodies.. The only figure still standing was the man with the gray hairs. Horror gripped Scorpius before he realized that counting the gray-haired man there were only eleven bodies on stage. Where was Albus?

            There was a shimmering of air behind the gray-haired man. Albus materialized out of thin air, with a grin of triumph on his face. He was in mid air and flying at the man’s back, his leg held straight out in front of him.

            His foot connected with the man and sent him flying forwards and off the stage, face planting on the ground with a smack.

            Albus stood in the middle of the stage, grinning with triumph. Scorpius leapt up and let out a whoop, unable to stop himself despite the fact that he was being dragged all over Chicago as a prisoner because of him.

            Scorpius looked back at the bartender whose jaw was hanging half-open in disbelief. The crowd looked quite impressed.

            Albus leapt off the stage and worked his way up to the bar. Scorpius left his seat and worked his way in that direction as well. When he finally got there, Albus was talking to the bartender.

            “Think I’ve proven my prowess with a wand?” Albus looked rather self-satisfied.

            The bartender snorted. “Hardly, though I have to admit, I am impressed. That man you beat is named Billy, and he doesn’t lose much. I’ll start working you into the usual fighting routine. What times of day work for you?”

            “Anytime, I’ve got a lax schedule.”

            “Okay,” The bartender started writing something down on a notepad he pulled out of his pocket. “Seeing as we’ll be doing business with each other,” he thrust his hand out at Albus, “I’m Grease.”

            Albus took his hand, “Albus.” The bartender didn’t question the fact that he only gave a first name. Scorpius assumed it was because most of the people who hung out at this place were probably wanted for a crime, or else trying to run away from something in their past. He figured they didn’t need to know last names anyway. People only went there to enjoy themselves, get drunk, and fight, and who needed to know names for doing those things?

            “So when’s my next fight?” Albus asked Grease.

            “Well, Billy was supposed to fight four rounds from now, but you can have his spot since you defeated him. So go take a short rest, and get ready for that fight. This one will be an ordinary one-on-one.”

            “Right.” Albus nodded and turned to find a seat. He looked surprised to find Scorpius right behind him, as if he had forgotten about Scorpius altogether.

            Scorpius pounded him on the back, “That was awesome! What happened down there? How did you pull it off?”

            Albus looked completely taken aback by Scorpius’ reaction to his fight. “Wait, let’s grab a seat first.” They wandered around the loud, crowded room, till they found an empty booth, and slid in.

            Albus ordered a couple of butterbeers for them as he explained the fight to Scorpius. “The man that Grease called Billy threw up a smoke screen as soon as the fight began. Of course there was no way any of us stood a chance against him while the smoke was still there. Since it was his smoke screen he could see through it, but we were all completely blind.

            “So I cast a concealment charm, waited till he had taken down the rest of the participants and the smoke had cleared, then bam, he was mine.”

            Scorpius stared in awe. “Man, I never would have thought of that.”

            “Lucky for me, the thought didn’t even cross Billy’s mind that anyone would be that fast at reacting, so he didn’t bother doing a body count. If he had, I would have been doomed.”

            Albus looked around and caught sight of where the obscene dancing was going on. A grin spread across his face. “Ah, nothing like some sensually pleasing entertainment while we wait, _excellent_.”

            Scorpius looked over and gagged. “You’re kidding me, right? That’s just disgusting, and immoral.”

            Albus turned and glared at Scorpius. “Oh shuttup. Don’t talk to me about being immoral and crap. I’m enjoying myself. It would be even more pleasing if they were over here doing it on our table.” A smile of pleasure spread across his face as he imagined it.

            Scorpius scowled, and then belted him in the face. “Don’t think about women like that, it’s dishonoring them!”

            A look of rage and surprise crossed Albus’ face as the punch connected. “Why you little brat!” He leapt over the table and onto Scorpius, tackling him out of the booth and onto the floor. Sitting on top of the blonde, Albus pummeled him until he was grabbed from behind by two strong hands and roughly pulled off him.

            Grease was a lot stronger than someone would have guessed from his slight build, and Albus wasn’t able to break free. Grease looked slightly amused. “Whoa there! Save your energy for your fight. Which, by the way, is on next, ,so you’d better get ready.

            “I’ve taken a liking to you, so I’ll give you some advice. Your opponent’s skilled, but doesn’t have much stamina, so if you play defensively till he starts to tire, you should be able to take him.”

            Albus nodded, and rubbed his nose which had started to bleed slightly from when Scorpius had first punched him, as he glared at the blonde teenager.

            “Oh look, I was right, the fight’s already over, get down there!”

            As Albus trotted off to his fight, Grease reached out his hand and pulled the bruised Scorpius to his feet. “What was that all about anyway?” Grease asked with interest.

            “Albus was getting imaginative with your dancers over there,” Scorpius jerked his head in their direction.

            Grease glanced over and grimaced. “Oh, those. They disgust me, but I let them stay even though I own the place. They’re just too good for business.” He turned back to Scorpius, face full of curiosity. “You two don’t seem to be that great of friends, why are you with him?”

            Scorpius looked at the ground. “I have no choice.”

            Grease burned with the desire to ask more questions, but said nothing, turning back to his place at the bar.

            On stage, Albus stood across from a tall, lanky man, with a baleful look on his face. Then the proctor yelled, “Begin!”


End file.
